


One Sick Love Story

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Lung Cancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is a cancer patient, on level eight. Grantaire is a mentally unstable patient on level nine. They meet, and worlds collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! Please, let me know what you think in the comments!

Enjolras didn’t particularly like the Cancer level. 

The Cancer level was level eight in the hospital he’d been checked into. The level was specifically designed to hold the more wealthy long-term cancer patients. And so, there he was. 

He’d been diagnosed with lung cancer two months ago. He hadn’t smoked, his friends hadn’t smoked. Yet here he was, laying in the only slightly comfortable hospital bed. He was hooked up to several different machines, all making their own wheezing or buzzing noises. He was, as usual now, also hooked up to an oxygen tank, clear tubes leading to his nose and giving him what he needed.

On Enjolras’ first day on level eight, his nurse, a kind blonde woman named Cosette, instructed him to try to get some rest. 

He was trying and failing to do just that, when he felt somebody watching him. 

The blonde very reluctantly sat up and opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. Actually, it was probably just a breath, but the effort made it feel as if it was much more. 

When he caught sight of the man standing at the foot of the bed reading his clipboard, he at first thought it was a doctor. But, taking a closer look, Enjolras saw the brunette man was wearing flannel pajama pants and a grey sweatshirt, rather than medical scrubs. 

“Sorry,” Enjolras spoke up, his voice breaking slightly from lack of use and, well, air. “But, who are you?” 

The other looked up, eyes finding Enjolras. “Me?” 

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, you.” 

He shrugged softly. “My name’s Grantaire.” 

“Why’re you looking at my clipboard?” 

Grantaire held up the clipboard, looking lost. “This is yours?” 

Enjolras sighed, before immediately regretting it. He winced softly, shifting. “Yes.” 

“So that means you’re-” He looked down, reading over the name again. “-Enjolras?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’ve got…”  
“Lung cancer.”

Grantaire nodded, meticulously setting the clipboard down in its place. After a long beat of silence, Enjolras spoke up again. “Why’re you here?” 

The brunette shrugged again, shuffling his bare feet on the floor. “I got bored. So I came downstairs. And then I found you.” 

Enjolras wanted to ask more questions, but Grantaire spoke up before he got the chance. 

“I like your hair.” 

“So do I.” 

“Is it going to fall out?” 

“Maybe.” 

Grantaire smiled lightly, nodding. “I like you. I _really_ like you.” 

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply, but a flustered looking brunette nurse walked in, taking a hold of Grantaire’s arm and pulling him towards the door. 

“Grantaire, what are you doing down here? I told you to stay in the Rec Room. I leave you for five minutes…” 

She tugged the man out and gave Enjolras an apologetic look, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Monsieur. He just wanders sometimes. He’s harmless.” 

He tried to sleep more, but the brunette man stuck in his mind and made it even more impossiblr than usual.   
\--  
Come to find out from Cosette, Grantaire was a patient from level nine of the hospital, the “mentally unstable” level. He was one of the more mischievous ones, often sneaking out of the facility. His nurse, Cosette called her Eponine, claimed that this was the first time he’d ever spoken to anybody other than the nurses. 

Enjolras learned all this just a few hours after his encounter with Grantaire, while Cosette checked up on all his machines that he was inevitably chained to. 

Then, Cosette left, telling him that dinner would be arriving soon and to sit tight. She left with a kind smile, leaving Enjolras along with his thoughts. 

He ate slowly, concentrating more on breathing steadily than tasting the food. Then, it was night, and Cosette told him to go to sleep, after writing something down on his clipboard. 

Though he did his best, he didn’t sleep for more than three hours that night. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t bring his mind to rest. 

Around three in the morning, a figure came to the doorway. Enjolras sat up again and squinted, running a hand through his mussed hair as he tried to make out the figure. 

“I like your hair.” The figure said, their voice strangely familiar. Then, he realized. 

“What are you doing here?” Enjolras asked, pausing a moment to catch his exhausted breath. 

Grantaire stepped into the room, still in his pajama pants and sweatshirt. “I couldn’t sleep. And I was bored.” He said, voice quiet. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the ninth floor?”

Grantaire shrugged softly, leaning against the wall. “Well, it’s a lot more comfortable than this place. But it gets boring. I’m always stuck there.” 

Enjolras watched him for a moment, before his curiosity won out. “How long have you been on the ninth floor?” 

Grantaire looked down now, his hands in his pockets. “About a year now, I think.” 

“Why’d you get sent in?” Enjolras asked, readjusting himself. 

Grantaire glanced up, his eyes falling over the man. “I was admitted by a few friends of mine.”

“Friends?” Enjolras asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Friends.” Grantaire agreed. “They were just trying to help me get better. It doesn’t matter if I don’t like their tactics.” 

Enjolras watched him, before nodding softly. He respected Grantaire for that if nothing else. “How much longer will you be here?” 

Grantaire shrugged again, running a hand through his mussed hair. “How much longer will _you_ be here?” 

Enjolras scoffed, gesturing to the machines. “Realistically? Until I die.” 

Grantaire shook his head and moved closer, sitting on the visitor’s chair. “Then unrealistically.” 

Enjolras turned his head towards him, smiling lightly. “Unrealistically, a few months.” 

Grantaire nodded softly, and the two fell into a content silence. 

Then, while still in the silent darkness, Grantaire reached out and slid his hand into Enjolras’. 

He turned to look at the other, confusion coloring his face. Grantaire met his eyes, before quickly looking away. “I read this article online, that says physical contact helps the human stay healthy. So, I thought maybe we could, be healthy. Together.” 

He looked embarrassed, and Enjolras nodded. “No, yeah. That’s good.” 

Grantaire looked up, and Enjolras smiled reassuringly. “Let’s be healthy together.” 

The brunette smiled happily, nodding softly. Enjolras returned the smile and settled into his pillows, his eyelids feeling heavy, yet not heavy enough to sleep. Even still, he closed them and enjoyed the moment.   
\--  
When he woke up the following morning, there was nobody beside him, nobody holding his hand. Nobody keeping him healthy. 

He didn’t have very much time to think, though, because Cosette swept into his room, setting a tray on his lap. 

“Good morning! Eat your breakfast and take your medicine. You’ll be having a visitor today.” 

She opened up the shades, letting in a blinding light as Enjolras sat up, a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. He squinted through the sunlight at the nurse, silently begging her to close the shades. “Really? Who?” 

“I think he was his name was Marius? Something Pontmercy.” She said, keeping her ground with the shades as she pushed his medication towards him. “Take that, Enjolras. Or I won’t let Pontmercy past the front desk.” 

The woman waited until the pills were gone, and then disappeared with a kind smile to let him finish his breakfast in peace. 

Though Grantaire hadn’t appeared since the night before, Enjolras’ mind lingered still on the strange man, and his hand burned with the desire to hold his again. 

He couldn’t place the feeling, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.   
\--  
Around noon, before lunch but after speaking with his doctor, Cosette entered his room, along with Marius. 

Cosette smiled up at the man, and Marius nodded at her with one of his charming smiles. The nurse ran off with a giggle, leaving Marius to turn towards Enjolras. 

“You take my breath away, and now you take my nurse?” The blonde tried vaguely at humor, managing to sit up with a quiet struggle. 

Marius smiled lightly, looking down. “If I could take your breath away, I’d be the most gorgeous man in France.” 

He said down in the visitor’s chair, but didn’t quite fill it like Grantaire did. 

“There is nobody as handsome as you, Marius.” Enjolras promised, forcing a smile. “Except perhaps me.” 

The younger man laughed and shook his head, replying with something less than humble. 

The two went on like that for a long while, until Cosette appeared to set his lunch tray in front of him and to tell Marius that it was time to go. 

The younger man obliged easily, exchanging goodbyes with Enjolras and following the blonde woman out of the room, smiling and flirting all the while. 

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile when Cosette appeared to collect his lunch, flushed and red at the cheeks. She glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. “What are you smiling at?” 

The man didn’t reply, only smirked at her. She gathered his pudding cup and rolled her eyes. “Shut up!”   
\--  
It was a few more hours before Grantaire visited, and he took the visitor’s chair without being asked. 

His hand lingered on Enjolras’ bed, and the blonde took his hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. 

There seemed a mutual understanding between the two of them. Grantaire didn’t speak, and Enjolras didn’t push it. He would talk when he was ready. 

It took a few long minutes, but finally, the brunette spoke quietly. 

“Do you ever feel...inadequate?” 

Enjolras didn’t move his gaze from the where it loitered on the wall, but nodded slightly. “All the time.” 

He heard Grantaire shift beside him, but his hand never left Enjolras’. 

“What an odd life we must have to others. Ours is like an inferior existence compared to those who are unleashed on the world. We are nothing.” 

And Enjolras might be dying of lung cancer, and every breath he took may have used up a world of effort, but the few words spoken by the only somewhat crazy man in the room made him lose his breath completely. He took a few steadying ones, just to make sure he still knew how, and glanced up at him, biting his lip. “I wouldn’t say we’re nothing.” 

“We are the people thrown into the mass grave of hospital life. There’s no one to remember us, no one to bury us.”

“There are friends.” 

Grantaire smiled bitterly, shaking his head. “Right. A few.” He said softly, leaning back. “But they won’t remember us, either. They will for a while, of course. But then, after a few years, they won’t have another thought in mind about you. Or me.” 

Enjolras didn’t agree, but he felt too tired to argue with him, so he simply nodded and closed his eyes.   
\--  
This time, when they opened, Grantaire was still there, though he appeared much better. His hand was still in Enjolras’ hand, and that was clearly the way he wanted it. He smiled when the blonde opened his eyes, and perked up just a bit. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” The man said, looking up at him. “You were asleep a while. You looked really peaceful.” 

“You haven’t gotten caught yet?” The man asked, yawning softly. It made his chest ache, and he crumpled slightly while taking short, sharp breaths. 

“Well, technically. Eponine came and wanted me to go back, but then she saw us being healthy and left. She was giggling, for some reason.” 

Enjolras smiled and nodded, still trying to normalize his breathing. “Oh. Okay. Will she be back?” 

Grantaire nodded, shrugging softly and toying with his fingers. “Yeah, she said she has to take me back by dinner.” 

“When’s dinner?” Enjolras asked, wishing he didn’t have to go at all.

“About an hour.” The man replied, glancing up at the ceiling. “I think.” 

Enjolras nodded slowly. It sounded about right, and looked right when he looked towards the darkening window. 

The two of them talked for a long time, smiling and slowly falling apart while falling in love. Enjolras laughed until he really couldn’t breath, and Cosette ran in to readjust his machines. Eponine appeared, too, and ushered a very concerned Grantaire out, leaving him confused and worried. 

Cosette took his place in the visitor’s chair, telling Enjolras to simply breath, coaching him through the motions. Eventually his lungs started working again, and he could breath once more. He figured Grantaire was long gone, and must’ve looked sad when Cosette brought his dinner in, because she asked, “What’s the matter, Enjolras?” 

The blonde shrugged softly, biting his lip. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” 

The woman paused, for a moment, before nodding and setting his dinner down on his lap. “I’m certain you’ll see him again. Eponine says he won’t stop talking about you.” 

Enjolras looked up from his untouched food, a soft smile raising the corner of his lips. “Really?” 

Cosette nodded as she fiddled with his machines, glancing over. “Yes. But you won’t ever get to see him again if you don’t take your medicine.” 

The cancer patient felt his insides melt, even as he swallowed the pills. Then, he looked up at Cosette. “Oh?”

“Oh.” She agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I would absolutely tear true love apart if you didn’t take those.” 

Enjolras smiled nervously, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Who said anything about true love?” 

Cosette paused, before _giggling_. She couldn’t seem to stop doing so, and swiftly excused herself with a nod towards the door. Enjolras simply stared after her before looking away and smiling softly, eating his dinner quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

Enjolras still couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to, of course, but it only seemed to grow increasingly harder. Every few hours he stirred, only to try to fall back to sleep again. He was absolutely exhausted, and he wished for nothing more than a good night’s sleep. Such a thought seemed far from reality. 

Over the next few days, his condition only seemed to worsen. It grew harder and harder to breath, and every few hours when he shot awake, trying to remember how the world (or at least, his oxygen tank) worked. He was breathing, or trying to, when he caught sight of a familiar figure sitting in the visitor’s chair. 

The blonde seemed to recover, taking in sweet breaths of oxygen as he relaxed. “Hey,” He rasped softly, glancing up at the other. With anyone else, he wouldn’t want to be seen in such a condition, but he felt safe around Grantaire, somehow. 

“Hey,” The other said. Enjolras couldn’t see him through the dark, but he could hear the worry in his voice. “Are you alright?”

Enjolras nodded softly, letting Grantaire take his hand. “Yeah. Just . . . dying. It’s pretty normal, at this stage.” 

“Don’t say that.” The other man said, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“It’s true.” 

There was a pause, and then Grantaire spoke. “Let’s talk about something else.” 

Enjolras can’t argue. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” 

He thought for a moment, before speaking again. “What did you do? Before you came here?”

Enjolras looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip. “I was a student.” 

“Oh. What’d you study?” 

“History.” 

Grantaire nodded and didn’t reply. 

“What did you do?” Enjolras asked, watching Grantaire play with his fingers. 

“Me? I was an artist. Painter, mostly.” 

“Really?” The blonde replied, real interest in his voice. 

“Yeah,” He could hear the man’s smile. “Yeah, I sold quite a few. They still let me paint, sometimes.” 

“I bet they were beautiful.” Enjolras breathed. 

Grantaire nodded, and suddenly seemed to have an idea. “Can I play with your hair?” 

It was an odd request, but not completely unreasonable. Nevertheless, Enjolras nodded, quite surprised when Grantaire stood and climbed onto the bed with him, the blonde turning on his side to accommodate the bed’s newest occupant. 

It must’ve seemed odd to anyone watching, as Grantaire’s chest pressed against his back and warm fingers pressed against his skull and ran through his hair. Soon enough, his eyes grew heavy and he _slept_ for the first time in what felt like forever.   
\--  
Cosette checked on all the patients routinely in the morning, mostly to ensure that they were all, well, alive. Everything was going just fine, fortunately for her, before she stepped into Enjolras’ room. 

There, lying on the bed with the man, was another. His arms were wrapped around him, and he looked half asleep himself. 

Cosette gasped, shaking her head. “Grantaire!” 

The brunette put a finger to his lips and shushed the blonde nurse easily, gesturing to the patient lying next to him. He was sleeping, deeply it seemed. It was the first time since he’d been checked in. 

Cosette wasn’t going to be the one to wake him, so she simply gave Grantaire a very stern we’ll-talk-about-this-later look, before sweeping away with a shake of her head. 

Enjolras slept for hours, making up for the weeks of unrest. When he woke up, Grantaire was still there, his surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him. 

The blonde turned in his arms, smiling up at Grantaire softly. “Well, we’re certainly being healthy today, aren’t we?” 

Grantaire smiled softly, letting Enjolras rest his head on his chest. “I guess so. It’s good, right?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice. 

Enjolras nodded, trying to absorb the man’s warmth. “Yes,” He agreed, tangling his cold feet with Grantaire’s legs. “It’s very good.” 

Cosette and Eponine chose right then to walk in with their breakfasts (which were now lunches), giggling to one another as they set the trays down on the table. 

“Grantaire, you know better than to sneak off at night. The others were so worried-” 

“I left them a note!” Grantaire defended, barely lifting his head from the pillow. 

“‘I’ll be back later’ is not good enough!” Eponine argued shrilly, shaking her head. 

“Now both of you, take your meds.” 

Enjolras and Grantaire both swallowed down their corresponding pills and picked at their food, both nurses chiding at them to eat. 

Eventually the nurses were content enough to take the trays away, still giggling at one another. 

Enjolras settled back into Grantaire’s arms, sighing contently. It still hurt, but it hurt less. 

Maybe they were being healthy. 

They’re happily silent for a while, before Grantaire spoke. 

“Your hair’s so nice.” 

Enjolras smiled lightly, a blush rising to his face. It’s probably messy.” 

“A bit. But it’s still beautiful.” 

Enjolras looked up at him, color still on his cheeks. “I think you’re beautiful.” 

Grantaire stared into his deep eyes for a moment, before leaning down and pressing his lips to Enjolras’. 

It was soft and unsure, a silent question of _is it okay_ being asked. Enjolras felt breathless in a whole new way when he closed his eyes and leaned into the man, his heart swelling irrationally. 

His heartbeat must have sped up, because he heard a pair of feet dash towards the room, linger near the doorway, and then left with a giggle. 

Enjolras pulled away first, breathless in more than one way. While he caught his breath, Grantaire smiled down at him. 

The blonde looked up, still panting softly. He returned the smile and leaned his head against Grantaire’s chest, listening to the healthy heartbeat thrumming against his skin. 

“What are you thinking about?” Grantaire asked, rubbing lazy circles against the man’s back. 

With a shrug, Enjolras closed his eyes, enthralled in the sound of the man’s heart. “You.” He said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Grantaire nodded softly, his eyes never leaving Enjolras’ blonde curls. “What do you think of me?” 

He thought it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to die, to leave this perfect man lost and alone. It was a shame he didn’t have a choice. 

But he didn’t want to sadden Grantaire with these thoughts, so he swept it to the back of his mind and came up with something new. 

“I think you’re the best thing a person can find in a hospital. And anywhere else.” 

Grantaire pressed his lips to Enjolras’ blonde curls and leaned his chin on the man’s head. “I’m so glad I came into your room that night.” 

Enjolras nodded softly, still partially distracted by the soft _thump_ of Grantaire’s heart. “Yeah. I’m glad, too.” 

Enjolras felt Grantaire smile against his head and he smiled himself, truly content with for the first time in a while.   
\--  
Eventually, when Enjolras’ window grew dark, Eponine arrived and told Grantaire is was time to go. 

The two men had spent the entire day in bed, talking quietly to one another and being healthy. 

“Can’t I stay here?” Grantaire whined, shifting in the hospital bed. “I won’t go anywhere.” 

“I have faith in you, but you know Javert doesn’t,” Eponine said, tugging on the brunette’s arm. 

“Who’s Javert?” Enjolras asked, still clinging to Grantaire’s warmth. 

“He’s the nighttime supervisor. He used to be a surgeon.” 

“He’s scary.” Grantaire contributed, finally giving up and swinging a leg over the side of the bed. 

“He is not scary.” Eponine chided, helping her patient to his feet. “He’s just . . . strict. That’s all.”

“ _Scary_ ,” Grantaire singsonged, watching Eponine tug him towards the door. “Bye, Enj. I’ll return, come morning!” 

Enjolras smiled and laughed softly, though it sent a figurative and literal pain in his chest. 

He wanted to tell Grantaire. But he wouldn’t understand. And, after all, he didn’t want to ruin such a perfect day. He’d asked the nurses not to tell him. 

Grantaire was ushered out by Eponine, who looked sad, and she nodded to Enjolras on the way out. Her last form of goodbye. Then, he was a decision. “Wait!” 

Eponine stopped, and Grantaire stuck his head back into the room. “What?” 

Enjolras smiled softly, working hard to contain his tears. “I love you, Grantaire. Don’t let anything I say or do ever convince you otherwise.”

Grantaire smiled brightly, his eyes too stuck on the man to notice the way Eponine had to wipe her eyes and wait for his reply. He opened his mouth to say it, but then seemed to change his mind. 

“You know what? I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll tell you that - well, you know, tomorrow. Goodnight.” 

He walked out without another word, Eponine trailing after him with a heart almost as broken as Enjolras’. 

After Grantaire was safely off level eight, Cosette stepped into the room. For a woman who did this relatively often, she looked very upset. “Are you ready?” 

Enjolras looked up at her and smiled softly, looking teary-eyed himself. “No.” 

Cosette sniffled and set down his clipboard, sitting down. She wasn’t in the visitor’s chair, but rather a different place, farther away. 

For a moment, Enjolras felt inadequate, like Grantaire said. Because he knew he was nothing special. People died in hospitals every day, and nobody remembered them. He was just another few tears shed by a couple of nurses and a crazy man. 

Even so, he felt lucky. 

But he didn’t want his last moments to be like this, so he doesn’t let them. 

“I hear Pontmercy asked you out.” 

Cosette smiled, because she couldn’t stop herself, yet she still sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, he did.” 

Enjolras smiled, too, because it only seemed a matter of time after the couple’s first meeting. 

The man felt oddly tired. “Good, that’s good. Because you’re good, and he’s good, and that’s good. Cosette?” 

“Yes, Enjolras?” She said softly, her voice breaking. 

“I’m ready now.”


	3. Chapter 3

Grantaire was truly, for the first time since his childhood, happy. He’d all but skipped down to level eight, nearly pulling Eponine towards Enjolras’ room. 

But when he got there, everything was different. 

The room was clean, bed made, absolutely no trace of Enjolras to be seen. 

He looked around, confusion written on his face, before he caught sight of Cosette. He jogged towards her, watching the way she sniffled and avoided his eyes. “Have you moved Enjolras? He isn’t in his room.” 

Cosette turned around, ducking her head. “I’m sorry, Grantaire. His cancer had been terminal for a long time, and we didn’t want him to suffer anymore. It was a planned thing.” 

“‘Thing?’ What sort of ‘thing’? Did you put him in another hospital?”

Cosette turned towards the man, wiping her eyes. “No. He’s-He’s dead. I’m so sorry,” 

The blonde woman stalked off to somewhere else, and everything was oddly silent, numb. Then, Eponine reached out a hand to settle on his shoulder. “Grantaire . . .” 

The man turned and ran off, into the room. From the doorway, he walked. It seemed disrespectful to run in such a place. Then, he sat down in the visitor’s chair, and sobbed. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but eventually Eponine stepped in and sat down next to him, rubbing his back gently. 

“I don’t get it.” Grantaire said softly, voice broken and small. “Where did he go? Where do any of us go?” 

Eponine gave a tiny noise, and wrapped her arms around the man, holding him close.

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly, Grantaire was struck with fear, with guilt. He put his face in his hands, and began to cry anew. He’d never said it. 

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is. I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought, please!


End file.
